The LA Times has an excellent story about the piano's declining status in U.S. living rooms ...
I've said often, quitting my piano lessons as a child is one of the biggest regrets of my life.
I blame part of my decision on my mother's obsession with having a clean house. There were days I was told I couldn't practice because the piano room was freshly vacuumed and I couldn't mess it up. As terrible and sad as that sounds, that's the way it was.
As I think about it more, though, that's a poor excuse. I suppose the blame falls on me just the same for not pushing myself harder, for not showing more interest, not wanting to practice more often during the three years I took lessons.
Back then,I was a kid who was far more interested in playing video games and trading baseball cards. Eventually, our family moved and the piano came with us. But I never resumed taking lessons and my interest in playing wasn't rekindled until it was much too late.
Watching our piano being carried out of our house on its way to a new owner, even then, I had a feeling I would miss it some day.
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